


Dragonfire Heart

by spiderlillium



Series: Numbers [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M, Medieval AU, Necromancy, Slightly Steampunk themed, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 21:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4681376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderlillium/pseuds/spiderlillium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi gets another chance to be with Erwin, his departed lover.</p><p> </p><p>| Medieval AU | Slightly Steampunk themed |</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragonfire Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. Just to be clear, this one is not going to have a happy ending, so if you don't want that kind of hurt, spare your eyes and click away, mate.

There are two teacups on the wooden table, but one had been left untouched for hours.  
  
It is dusk, now. In the valley, the light dies earlier than it does in the plains, so Levi keeps his hearth burning after noon. The days grow shorter and the air grows colder still as Autumn approaches, so fire is as valuable as water, now – and it would be bad to be caught in the creeping nightfall without a source of heat.  
  
A soft crackling fills in the silence as Levi sat idly on his chair, hands around his cup. The tea held within – or what's left of it – had gone cold, the ceramic warmed by his palms. The man does not know how long he had stilled, but when he spied that the fire in his hearth is starting to wane, he decided that he had stilled enough.  
  
Gathering his cup, he dumped the remaining contents to the sink – for once, not regretful of the waste. After he had washed the ceramic and let it alone to drip dry, he walked over to the fireplace and grabbed a few logs, tossing them to the dying fire, tilting them this way and that to let it breathe. In a moment he let the fire share his own breath, blowing on it till it rose back to brightness.  
  
Levi's face felt warm when he pulled away from the hearth, and when he looked back at his supping table, he spotted a teacup – the other one he had set out.  
  
He stilled – and remembered that he had forgotten again.  
  
The cup is cold to the touch, unlike his own. Levi traced his fingers around the rim, contemplative. He shouldn't have made another serving – tea is a luxury, and should not be wasted like this. He forgot. Then again, he forgets many things nowadays. Shaking his head, Levi took the container in his hand and poured the undiminished tea into the drain, and washed it till it's clean.  
  
The fire in the fireplace is burning nicely when Levi retired to bed. The bed in which he lies on is large, warm, and smelled like it had been lain in for more than a month. He knows he should wash the sheets soon – let the blankets bask under the heat of day until they had the scent of the sun – but he doesn't. He forgets. Just like how he forgot to wash his face before he'd gone to bed, or even how he forgot to eat dinner (and breakfast, and lunch) today. He _forgets_.  
  
In the morning when he wakes up, he will be cold. The fire in the hearth would be long gone when the day is born anew, and as the light rises he will forget to kindle fire to cook his meal. He will forget that winter is nearing and he will go out and bathe in the cold water of the river and come back pale and shivering underneath his towels. The pangs of hunger will overcome him when noon comes, and when he does prepare something to eat, Levi will forget and cook twice the serving he needs.  
  
Levi forgets a lot of things – but everything he does will always make him remember that when he prepares tea and sets out two cups, one will _always_ be untouched.  
  
  
  
…  
  
  
The road to the town of Three Crossings is long, but Levi had long been used to the saddle.  
  
His mare is an old thing, an animal bred to run. She had been a gift, a beautiful beast the color of lacquer and night. Levi had never ridden anything half as fast as Aster, nor seen a horse as graceful, despite her age. In her prime she had produced equally fast and graceful horses, but Levi always had a soft spot for his favorite star, and in turn, the beast to her master.  
  
Her mate is the entire opposite – he is a destrier, meant to be ridden with armor. Where Aster is as black as soot, Sky is as white as winter snow. He's packed with muscle, strong enough to carry his master till the end of a battle – and rightfully so, as his rider had been a knight once upon a time.  
  
It is teeth-chattering cold in this time of year, but Levi needed to ride early to reach the town beyond his valley before winter comes. The chill of the air felt like a dead lover's kiss on his cheeks, but he plowed on, keeping his horses to a constant trot till the sun rose. For three days and three nights, he rode, camped, and rode still till the sight of the town reached his eyes.  
  
The town of Three Crossings is a place ruled by trade. People from all over the empire and beyond came here to sell and buy, barter if you've come upon an Eastern merchant. Everything from wheat to whore can be bought here, and with winter fast approaching, Levi needed to stock up food as much as he could if he wanted to last till spring.  
  
Not that he hadn't been planting his own grain. He had labored to keep a field or two, plant some cabbages and carrots, even a few fruit trees, but one man can only do so much. So with some silver coins, he bought a few sacks of flour, bags of onions, garlic, unripe tomatoes, and potatoes. He re-stocked on sea salt so he can preserve meat, bought some sugar and spices (and _forgot_ that he despised the taste of cinnamon), and of course, purchased some tea leaves.  
  
Sky was already complaining of the weight when Levi was done, but before the sun could set, he made a final turn to get some seeds to plant in the spring.  
  
He found a merchant at the side of a large stall that sold tropical fruits. The seller is but an old woman, small and seemingly frail in her loose, almost cloak-like clothes, and about her were two crows, both trying to peck a larger hole in a sack of golden corn kernels.  
  
“Do you have barley or oat grains?” Levi pulled both of his horses with him, approaching the woman, nearly bowing at how _small_ she was.  
  
“Oh, yes,” said the woman, her messy, gray hair shifting about her when she was addressed to. “Plenty. A sack of each?”  
  
“Yes, and two of wheat, please.” When Levi moved to take a few coins from his pocket, the crone began shoveling the seeds into a satchel as large as her head.  
  
“ _Please_ , _please_ ,” the crows repeated, not in unison, tearing their gaze away from their sack and cocking their head this way and that to look at Levi.  
  
“Quiet!” The old woman waved at her pets, the birds breaking into flight and landing right back on the sack of corn.  
  
_“Please,”_ repeated the crow, while the other cawed.  
  
“They talk,” Levi remarked idly, waiting for the woman to finish tying the satchels shut.  
  
“Bean is meeker, but yes.” The crone smiled a crooked smile. “That would be thirteen rose coins, please and thank you.”  
  
Levi did not ask which of the crows was named Bean, and gave the woman a silver coin.  
  
“ _Bean_ ,” repeated the crow, while the other screeched ' _please_ '.  
  
“There you go,” With bony hands, the small, old woman handed Levi's purchases over. “And forgive – I only have pennies to give.”  
  
Levi took the satchels and loaded it on Aster's back, and formed his hands into a scoop when the crone poured the steel coins from her own.  
  
“Keep warm this winter,” said the woman when Levi had started to turn away, “And I'm so sorry for your loss.”  
  
“ _Your loss_ ,” repeated the crows, “ _Loss, loss, loss_.”  
  
Levi stopped, and looked back.  
  
  
  
…  
  
  
  
Before, Levi was a man who stood in the dark with a knife in his hand.  
  
For bread and wine he would plunder, and for a time he was the bane of many a cities' guards. He was a thief, a liar, a killer. He was born in the pleasure districts of the capital, and grew up among the lowlifes and common folk of the empire. He learned to steal at six, and learned to kill at eleven. Mentored, he rose to be feared by many, and in time he became infamous.  
  
Levi was a man who stood in the dark with a knife in his hand, but that was before he met his sun.  
  
His sun is a man of noble blood, a knight riding under a banner of black and white wings over a red field. His ancestor was a ruler in his own time – the Blacksmith King, the King who rode the Dragon. He was the usurper who overthrew the Reiss dynasty and their control over the Titan, a giant beast bound by magic. Even now, one could note the remains of the fallen Titan in the capital, it's bones blackened by dragonfire and used as pillars and support to rebuild the palace.  
  
His sun is a hard man, a gambling man. When he captured Levi one humid, rainy day, he did not put him under the mercy of his sword. Instead, he made him chose – live and lend your sword to me, or die. Levi scoffed at him then, and chose to live so he can kill the fool later, but his sun was just as cunning as he was. He let him into his home, let him dine on his table and sleep on his bed, but it was all a lesson – a lesson of trust. The one who steps on the dragon's tail is burned, but the one who keeps quiet lives another day.  
  
Levi found it hard to keep quiet, but he learned his lesson, and so did his sun. The dragon is not the only one with fire – and his sun, his beloved, for all his stubbornness and dominance, understood. The game of trust is not a one way route, and he learned to give, just as Levi did.  
  
In time, the game became no more – there is only living, after, like they had not been enemies in the beginning. Levi had grown to trust this daring knight, and when his sun marched to a battle – any battle – he was there, like a second sword, a better sword. One word is all it took, and Levi would deliver.  
  
Levi was a man who stood in the dark with a knife in his hand, but when he met his sun, he took a sword instead and basked in the light.  
  
  
  
…  
  
  
  
_“Loss,”_ said the crow, and Levi stopped to look back.  
  
“ _What_ did you just say?” Blood rushed to his face, his upper body, bathing him in warmth. Levi yanked the reins of his horses so hard that Sky snorted in retaliation, and Aster stomped noisily as her master pulled them back toward the old wench.  
  
“What did I say?” The woman looked up at Levi like she was seeing him for the first time. “Oh, lad, forgive, I am old, I make no sense at times.”  
  
The crows did not imitate her this time, and flapped their wings, rising in the air till they landed on their mistress' hunched shoulders, one on each.  
  
Levi narrowed his eyes at the crone, and the light and clarity in her own proved that she was lying. “You said you were sorry for my loss.”  
  
“People die all the time,” reasoned the woman with matted, gray hair. “And people lose the people they love just as equally. Especially with the plague sweeping in the west...” She made a rubbing gesture with her wrinkled, bony fingers, and paused to look back up at Levi. “'Tis only a guess, sweet child, forgive.”  
  
_People die all the time._ Levi nearly looked at her scornfully. “Maybe you should watch out for the plague – Three Crossings is a crowded place. The disease spreads fast, I've heard.” And learned, oh so painfully.  
  
The crone let out a cough-like laugh. “Oh, no – the black death will never prosper here, with winter coming.”  
  
“ _Death_ ,” repeated the crow, cocking his head to look at Levi. “ _Death_.”  
  
_How would you know,_ Levi thought.  
  
“Though you should know this, shouldn't you?” the woman reached for the hole her crows had pecked, and stuck her finger inside the sack to get a few kernels. “The sun died, but in the _cold_ , the shadow remained.”  
  
“ _Corn!_ ” said the crows, in eerie unison. “ _Corn, corn, corn._ ”  
  
Levi watched the wench feed her pets from the palm of her hand, her skin leather-like. _He was my sun, my beloved._ He felt like wringing the life out of her thin, wrinkly and saggy neck. “Did the Emperor send you?”  
  
“The Emperor is too busy trying to live to bother himself with other things,” The woman dusted off her hands when the kernels have all but gone. “To which emperor, well – I am not certain.”  
  
“Don't play games with me,” Levi kept his temper at bay, but found it hard not to snap. “How did you know about us?”  
  
“How did I know about what?” The woman looked up at him with wide eyes, but they were not innocent. “Forgive, sweet child, I'm an old woman, I don't make sense most of the time.”  
  
In his fury, Levi reached for the dagger snuggled against his hip, but the crows flew at him before he could pull the metal out of hiding.  
  
“It is such a strange thing – love.” The woman began, when Levi had tried to whack away at the black birds and missed, “Such a complicated emotion. So potent in bringing joy, and sorrow.” The crows flew back to her shoulders when they were done circling Levi, and she lifted a thin hand to stroke the feathers of one. “Even enough to make a man pull a dagger to kill someone in this fine day.”  
  
Levi could feel his horses stomping away, but he strengthened his grip on the reins. Around him, life seemed to flow without pause, like a river unmindful of the rocks on it's bed. The noise of trade sounded more like silence now, and staring down at the woman, time for him seemed to slow.  
  
“How much would you pay to have the chance to see your sun again?”  
  
_Everything._  
  
Levi opened his mouth and took a breath.  
  
“Oi, wench, give us some malt grain, aye? Make 'em three bags.”  
  
The crows took flight, and Levi did not say a word as another stranger approached the old woman.  
  
With a firm tug, he led his horses away, and made due to leave the town of Three Crossings.  


 


End file.
